57. From My Archives: The Reluctant Novice
Apart from half of the world’s literary agents, a slight exaggeration, but never mind, only few people know I have written three novels that have not yet been published. This may look bad on me, but I don’t consider it to be so- it is probably a good thing because if anyone, one day, decides to represent me it means someone has seen a way of making big money out of it... until then I have my blogs, webs, Twitter, Facebook which in my opinion is much more fun than being a static published author simply because I could fit in nicely in one of the thousands of slots on a book shelf and probably left there for no one to pick up! Envious??? Just realistic!!!
Having once been a member of a religious order "The Reluctant Novice" cannot but deal with the life of nuns inside a convent. Although the novel is fictitious, it’s not too hard to figure out that the obnoxious Sister Irene seems so much like me that it probably is me.
The following extract comes from a Chapter that begins with Irene's first Ash Wednesday inside the convent.
Father Nigel picked up a pinch of ash and held it between his forefinger and thumb, then pressed it in the sign of the cross on each Novice's forehead as he repeated, `From dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return.’ His solemn tones broke the silence of the bleak Ash Wednesday morning.
`We are not called to a life of isolation,’ his words were quiet, as if in private conversation rather than a Lenten sermon. `A religious who wishes to cut herself from others is a contradiction in terms.’
Irene glanced furtively to the other side of the bench where Nancy was sitting. The ban to communicate with Rebecca and Nancy, now that it was lent, was even more enforced, if that was at all possible.
How could Father Nigel talk about cutting oneself off from others, Irene thought, when it was the convent who prevented her from talking with her companions. The contradiction, Irene deemed, was not of her doing but that of the convent.
She would more than willingly communicate with Nancy and Rebecca. Instead, all she had beside her, at lunch, at recreation, in chapel, was the odious Deborah; the supercilious Deborah who expected everyone to apologize for their existence. Being forced to entwine one's life with those who are repulsive to one, was perhaps the convent's idea of not cutting oneself off from others- it certainly was not Irene's.
`Our vows, mortifications, penances are aimed to constitute affection for one another.’
Irene had seldom noticed that she had the quiet Pauline on the other side. She glanced at Pauline momentarily, her fringe now completely tucked away under the white veil; the unobtrusive, subdued Pauline who was perpetually ready to justify Deborah in all and every action. Father Nigel was right, Irene admitted to feel some affection for Pauline, whether that was the result of her mortifications or not, Irene was not so sure.
`We ourselves should proclaim love by our new habit of humility, gentleness, kindness and patience.’
There he goes, speaking metaphorically again, Irene cogitated. She looked at her black, knee length skirt, her jacket and white blouse, and the thick, steel cross hanging from a chain around her neck. This was her new habit which obviously hid an avalanche of sins. There was no humility, gentleness, kindness or patience- that habit, she had yet to take.
`God is a jealous lover! If we digress from this call to a lesser love in creatures we will find Him relentless, and never allow us to be happy in any other circumstances.’
Father Nigel's deep brown eyes looked directly at Irene. `We will find Him,’ Father Nigel continued, `always in pursuit, for God is a jealous lover!’
That was exactly what Irene had always believed. She had always believed that God would hunt her, track her down, give her no peace until she was doing exactly what He had laid out for her to do- the only problem was discovering what that reality was.
With that kind of attitude to the religious life- is it any wonder I left the cloister?
Permission is granted to use any of the articles in this blog in your own e-zine,web site or classroom as long as you include the following blurb with it:
 |
| The Reluctant Novice by ©Eva Ulian |
The following extract comes from a Chapter that begins with Irene's first Ash Wednesday inside the convent.
Father Nigel picked up a pinch of ash and held it between his forefinger and thumb, then pressed it in the sign of the cross on each Novice's forehead as he repeated, `From dust thou art and unto dust thou shalt return.’ His solemn tones broke the silence of the bleak Ash Wednesday morning.
`We are not called to a life of isolation,’ his words were quiet, as if in private conversation rather than a Lenten sermon. `A religious who wishes to cut herself from others is a contradiction in terms.’
Irene glanced furtively to the other side of the bench where Nancy was sitting. The ban to communicate with Rebecca and Nancy, now that it was lent, was even more enforced, if that was at all possible.
How could Father Nigel talk about cutting oneself off from others, Irene thought, when it was the convent who prevented her from talking with her companions. The contradiction, Irene deemed, was not of her doing but that of the convent.
She would more than willingly communicate with Nancy and Rebecca. Instead, all she had beside her, at lunch, at recreation, in chapel, was the odious Deborah; the supercilious Deborah who expected everyone to apologize for their existence. Being forced to entwine one's life with those who are repulsive to one, was perhaps the convent's idea of not cutting oneself off from others- it certainly was not Irene's.
`Our vows, mortifications, penances are aimed to constitute affection for one another.’
Irene had seldom noticed that she had the quiet Pauline on the other side. She glanced at Pauline momentarily, her fringe now completely tucked away under the white veil; the unobtrusive, subdued Pauline who was perpetually ready to justify Deborah in all and every action. Father Nigel was right, Irene admitted to feel some affection for Pauline, whether that was the result of her mortifications or not, Irene was not so sure.
`We ourselves should proclaim love by our new habit of humility, gentleness, kindness and patience.’
There he goes, speaking metaphorically again, Irene cogitated. She looked at her black, knee length skirt, her jacket and white blouse, and the thick, steel cross hanging from a chain around her neck. This was her new habit which obviously hid an avalanche of sins. There was no humility, gentleness, kindness or patience- that habit, she had yet to take.
`God is a jealous lover! If we digress from this call to a lesser love in creatures we will find Him relentless, and never allow us to be happy in any other circumstances.’
Father Nigel's deep brown eyes looked directly at Irene. `We will find Him,’ Father Nigel continued, `always in pursuit, for God is a jealous lover!’
That was exactly what Irene had always believed. She had always believed that God would hunt her, track her down, give her no peace until she was doing exactly what He had laid out for her to do- the only problem was discovering what that reality was.
With that kind of attitude to the religious life- is it any wonder I left the cloister?
Permission is granted to use any of the articles in this blog in your own e-zine,web site or classroom as long as you include the following blurb with it:
© Eva Ulian – the best of the worst
http://evaulian-thebestoftheworst.blogspot.com/
